by Sarah Wray
‘OK, Kat. Like I said, I just want to know, why did you come to my caravan tonight? Were you going to attack me again?’
‘No! That ain’t me. I just wanted to... I wanted to check you were alright. After the other night. At the park. I thought you might be injured or… And the news about Kayleigh. I was worried you might… I dunno, do something, hurt yourself.’
‘Why do you suddenly care so much about me?’
‘Don’t say that.’ She’s snivelling now. ‘The way we’ve treated you lately. It isn’t right. I felt bad for you. I’m sorry.’ Her voice cracks now.
She’s closer. I don’t know if she moved or me. I can see her face now. She’s looking down at the floor, biting her lip, I think.
‘It’s OK.’ I take a deep breath. ‘I understand that you’re upset because of what he did to Kayleigh… And you.’
There’s a jolt of shock in her. ‘What— what do you mean?’
I don’t want to say it out loud, but I have to. ‘I can see now what has happened. And I’m sorry I tried to protect Chris. I’m sorry for what he did to you. And Kayleigh.’
She’s biting her nails, shifting her feet on the muddy ground. It has started to rain, the earth already beginning to shift and liquefy.
‘Don’t say that!’ Her voice is louder now. It startles me.
‘What do you mean? I thought this is what you wanted.’
‘Arrrrrgggghh… just please go away. I came here to think; to be on my own. I need you to just go.’
‘I can’t leave you here like this.’
‘I came to the caravan to talk to you. I’ve been trying to talk to you!’
‘What do you mean, trying to talk to me? When have you been trying to talk to me?’
‘Just forget it. OK? I have to go.’
‘Kat, I need to know what you are talking about. Please.’
‘Stop saying my name. It’s too late. I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks. I rang you and I came to the caravan park, but I just… I couldn’t. It’s just a huge fucking mess.’
‘Do you know something about Chris? About what he did? You can tell me. I can help you. We can go to the police together.’
‘Go to the police?’
‘If you know more about him, you have to tell them. Don’t be scared. We just have to get to the truth now, Kat. It’s all I want. It’s best for everyone. For Kayleigh.’
Her voice sounds burnt or scraped now… raw. ‘Don’t you get it? Don’t you see? It wasn’t Chris, OK? But you really, really need to just leave it. I can’t say any more. You need to leave it alone.’
‘Kat, what are you talking about? How do you know all this?’
She goes to run away but I grab her wrist, yanking her round. It’s tiny and bony in my hand.
‘Because it was me!’ she screeches.
Thirty-Five
Thursday, 19 November
Kat’s voice is clear now, even over the sound of the river and the wind. Before, I was straining to hear it.
She is trying to pull away but I don’t let go of her, my nails are digging in. ‘Oh fuck, what am I doing? I didn’t mean that. Just forget it, OK? Fuckfuckfuck!’
‘Kat, you know I can’t just leave it.’ My voice sounds automated. I put my other hand on her shoulder instinctively. One hand giving comfort, the other holding her back. But I have to get to the bottom of this right now, or it’s not going to happen.
She’s crying, becoming hysterical. ‘It was us, it was me, OK? It’s all my fucking fault.’
The rain is coming down more heavily now, falling in rivulets off the trees overhead.
‘Follow me,’ she says. ‘We can’t talk here.’ She pushes black make-up streaks off her cheeks.
I hardly care where she’s taking me. As if I could walk away now, if I even wanted to. She uses her mobile phone to lead the way; the light intermittently cuts out before she presses it on again. I can hear her breathing heavily, psyching herself up, trying to regain her composure. She’s walking purposefully; she knows where she’s going.
Suddenly, she speeds up and I am disorientated, in blackness. ‘Hey, wait.’ I brace for a blunt force to the back of the head or a hard shove onto the ground. But a light comes on and I can see she’s in a clearing, some kind of den. There’s a large upturned torch flooding the space with light. It’s the size of a small room. She beckons me to come in.
I hesitate, looking behind me. ‘Is this a trick? Is someone in here?’
Kat doesn’t answer me and kicks at the ground, clearing plastic alcohol bottles out of the way. A blue 2-litre white cider bottle, bright yellow cans. She sits on an upside-down milk crate and gestures for me to do the same. We could almost be in a suburban sitting room somewhere, drinking tea. The thicket canopy, surprisingly, shields us from the wind and rain.
‘Nice place you’ve got here.’ It sounds ridiculous. ‘Is this where you hang out, then?’ I have to keep her on side. Calm her down.
She nods her head slightly. ‘Sometimes. Me and Kayleigh used to.’
‘I didn’t even know it was here.’
We both jump when her phone rings again, the light shining through the fabric of her coat.
‘You wouldn’t. It’s why I like it here.’
We sit in silence, just the sound of the water rushing. It’s more distant now. The rain or the river, or both.
‘What did you mean before when you said about Kayleigh, that it was you?’
She drops her head into her hands again, crying. When she looks up, her nose is red, lips swelling slightly from the tears. She takes a tall can from her pocket, the same brand that is strewn around the den, cracks it open and takes a swig. Her hands are trembling.
She tips the can at me. I think about refusing, but instead take a large swig. It’s cheap, sweet stuff, an after-taste of ash. I go to hand it back to her, but she’s already taken another one from the other pocket.
When I had something on my mind as a teenager, I would sometimes lie awake in the night for hours, worrying. It might be a boy or schoolwork or someone calling me fat, festering away at me. But in the end I’d have to get up and get it out, talk to someone. I was the same with Chris. Waking him up in the early hours. ‘Are we OK?’ I’d ask, needing reassurance. I can tell Kat has something she needs to talk about. It’s teetering on the edge.
Finally, she says, ‘I didn’t mean it to happen.’
I don’t even dare to breathe in case it breaks things, makes her clam up again. The truth is so close I feel like I could almost grab it.
‘It was here,’ she says. ‘I come up here to be on my own now, to think about stuff. We used to come here with Kayleigh too. It was like our den; us lasses. Me, Kayleigh and… anyway.’
She’s getting hysterical again, making whooping sounds as she struggles to catch her breath. I used to get like this when I was young, even over small things. And I’ve been like this recently, many nights since Chris has been gone.
‘We’re here now. I know something’s happened. You’ll feel better if you get it out. I know you will.’
I feel a twinge of guilt, coaxing her like that, but I push it away. Why should I feel bad? And anyway, it feels like it’s going to hurt me as much as her.
She lets out a heaving sob, her face sodden with tears. ‘I just wish I could go back. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’ Her voice is thick, sound fading in and out. She blurts, ‘We chased her.’ Blue strands are pasted to her cheeks now, like veins.
‘Kayleigh?’ I ask.
It hardly needs saying, but I need to keep her talking. But this just sets off a fresh wave of sobbing.
‘You chased her where? I can see this is hard for you, but it will be better.’ I reach to touch her jean-clad knee but she’s just out of reach.
She’s shouting now. ‘Here! We chased her here! We chased her and she tried to get away. She fell in! She fell in the fucking river.’
‘In here?’ I gesture around the den.
<
br /> I think she is shaking her head, but I can’t be sure.
‘I think she tried to get across the stepping stones. She was trying to get away, but we didn’t push her, I promise, we didn’t push her. She fell – but who would believe us? We shouldn’t have been chasing her.’
‘OK,’ I say, trying to control the tremor in my voice. ‘Who’s we? Who chased Kayleigh?’
‘It was me.’
‘It wasn’t just you, was it, Kat?’
She just snivels and cries, refusing to look at me.
‘It was Paige who was with you, wasn’t it?’
She’s rocking slightly now, a catatonic look about her.
‘But why?’
She flinches at this then shrugs. ‘Me and Paige came up here after the park to see if Kayleigh was here. Because she didn’t show up.’
She puts her hand on her forehead, shakes her head. ‘I was drunk. I can’t sort it clearly in my head. But Paige and Kayleigh, they got into a huge row. Because Paige thought Kayleigh was making moves on her boyfriend. Someone told her that. They got into a row and Kayleigh even had a go at me. She was lashing out. She felt like we were ganging up on her. She thought I’d turned on her.’
‘So you…?’
‘Her and Paige got into a fight. It was so stupid! Kayleigh was pulling her hair and everything and Paige chased her. I was trying to split them up, I know I was.’ She punches herself hard in the head three times, and I wince.
‘Kat, don’t do that.’ I stand up and reach out but then sit back down again. I need to keep my distance.
‘It’s just all so hazy. But I was trying to break it up. I couldn’t have been going after her too. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. God, I fucking hate myself. I hate myself.’ She’s shaking her head side to side quickly, clawing at a handful of her blue hair.
‘Over a boy? And some gossip? All this over that? All this…?’
‘I know how disgusting I am, I do, you know that? You know, I don’t think Paige even wanted to catch her. I didn’t. Paige probably wouldn’t have done anything more neither. She would never have pushed her in. Her pride was just hurt. I drank too much. Aaaaaarrrrgggggh! Why why why? I should have just stopped it. I could have.’
‘But why didn’t you say anything after? It was an accident, wasn’t it?’ Another stupid question, no doubt.
She flinches again at this. Maybe I am pointing out the obvious; the things she doesn’t want to think about.
‘I just couldn’t. You really don’t understand. I couldn’t. And anyway, who would believe me that it was an accident? We shouldn’t have been chasing her. Once we’d said the lie once, that was it – we couldn’t go back. We said she was meant to meet us and she didn’t show up – that part is true – and people believed it. I don’t know how, but it just ran on. Kayleigh, she must have wanted to be on her own too. That’s why she was here. We knew that’s where we’d find her. Paige was determined to find her and have it out.’
I am struggling to process what she’s saying but can’t risk cutting off the flow. ‘So who else knows? All of you?’
‘Just... just Paige. We were all totally out of it at the park. No one remembers clearly who was where when. People just come and go on nights out, you know? I think they all feel guilty they can’t clearly remember who left when. They probably don’t even remember whether Kayleigh came to the park or not. Who knows? Half the lads were on cider and skunk and stuff. We’re all fucking idiots.’
I expect to feel relief or more tears or something, but I just feel lightheaded. Maybe it’s the beer; I realise I’ve swigged most of the can.
‘You could have just told the police.’
‘I honestly thought they’d work it out. I can’t believe it’s gone this far, I really can’t. I just remember hearing her shouting, “Leave me alone. Please!” She sounded really scared. Then there was this weird silence and I heard the splash. I just knew. I’m sure I heard it. It’s the nothingness followed by the splash; I just can’t get it out of my head.’
She is calmer now. ‘It was weird, you know, because there was no scream then. Not when she fell in.’
I shudder.
‘Paige said Kayleigh had got away, she’d gone home. And I didn’t say anything. I went along with it. It’s my fault. Paige knew too, she must have heard the splash. But she didn’t say anything.’ Kat looks dazed, drugged, disbelieving of what she’s saying. ‘She said, “We’ll sort it out with her when we next see her.”
She wraps her arms around herself, ‘But then she said, “If anyone asks, we didn’t see Kayleigh, she didn’t turn up to the park, right?”…We knew. We both knew Kayleigh had fallen in at The Cut. We didn’t want it to be true, but it was. And we just went home. That was it.’
I feel queasy.
‘Then later it was like we thought we could make it true that it was Chris and not us.’
I feel sorry for Kat, but that snaps me out of it and then it hits me.
‘But why did you say that Chris made advances on you?’
She seems to ignore me, spaced out again, but then she says, ‘I did see him, you know? I wasn’t lying about that.’
‘Chris?’ My mouth is dry, whole body braced for what is coming.
‘Yeah. I came here after school. We got out early because it was the last day. And he was sitting in here. Reading a book.’
‘Reading a book? But what was he doing here?’
‘Dunno, he just got his stuff together when he saw me and scarpered off.’
‘Didn’t you ask him?’
‘Nah, I thought it was a bit weird but, you know. Free country.’ She shrugs.
‘But what did he say to you? Did he do something?’
‘No, that’s it; he just left when I got here.’
I think of him on the CCTV. The last time he was seen. He must have been on his way to the river then. To here. It’s a physical pain to think of him all alone here.
‘But I don’t understand. Why did you say that to the police? Just recently?’
She’s shaking again, trying to contain herself. ‘Because Paige told me to. When his name came up in the papers, I told her that I’d seen him here and she just jumped on it. I shouldn’t have told her. I can’t blame her though, ’cos it was me that did it. You came to the school and you were asking questions and stuff. Then the police interviewed us again and Paige said we had to do something.’
‘But he didn’t? You know... try to…?’
‘No! He didn’t do nothing. He just left, I told you that.’
‘But where did he go? After you saw him?’
‘I dunno. I didn’t really take no notice. Until after, until I saw him on the news and in the paper.’
‘You must have seen which way he went? You could have told the police all this.’
‘I know. I’m sorry.’ It comes out as a kind of howl. You can hear the pain in it.
I soften my tone. ‘So why did you come to my caravan?’
‘I wish I never had now. I can’t do this. I just felt bad for you. I seen you in the paper and that, and round about, and you look really… just… you know. I feel bad for what we’ve done to you. Letting you think that about your husband. Letting everyone think it. It’s not right. I’ve seen you around and it isn’t fair.’
Something clicks into place. ‘It’s you, isn’t it. Have you been phoning me and following me?’
She nods, looking down. ‘I told you that before. I needed to see how you were doing. I thought you were going to top yourself or something.’
‘I’ve thought about it, believe me.’
‘I know.’ She’s crying again, strings of snot hanging from her nose. She drags the back of her sleeve across it. ‘It was too easy. When we found out he was missing too. It just happened, you know?’
‘No, I don’t know.’ There’s a hot current of something else running through the shock now. The lies they told about Chris, the things I let myself think about him.
‘People were blaming him
and we just went along with it. I think we wanted to believe that too. Sometimes it even felt like I did believe it. It didn’t seem real. Do you hate me?’
It reminds me how young she is, such a childish thing to say, needing the reassurance. I can’t answer. Do I hate her? You’d think it would be easy to answer, but it isn’t.
‘I just kept wanting to reach you, you know. To let you know it wasn’t him. I should have just left it.’
‘No, you shouldn’t! How dare you? No, you shouldn’t have let me fucking think my husband is God knows what!’ The anger catches and flares.
‘I feel terrible, I am just so sorry.’
I believe her.
Kat looks up at me now. ‘So you really just don’t know where he is then, your husband?’
‘No.’
‘It must be horrible.’
‘It’s horrific. They could have been looking for him as a person. Not as – as what you’ve all been calling him. You’ve destroyed his reputation. He can’t get that back. Mud sticks. Some people will always have him down as a paedophile now, I hope you know that.’
I spit the word at her. She starts to cry hysterically again. The rage that swelled up recedes just as quickly, knocked out of me. Nothing had to be this way. Kayleigh is gone. Chris seems further away than ever.
Something catches my eye then. There’s more light coming from outside the bush. Kat notices too, panic in her eyes.
‘Fuck. You need to go.’
‘Kat? Kat what are you doing, mate?’
I recognise the girl’s voice. It’s Paige.
‘Oh shit, you’ve got to go. I’ve got to go. Just go away,’ she hisses.
‘Where am I going to go?’ There’s only one way out of the clearing.
‘I’ve been ringing you, K. I thought you’d be here. What’s up? Why you ignoring my calls?’ Paige’s voice is getting so close now.
‘I’m coming, Paige. I’ll come over now.’ She tries to sound normal but her voice cracks with alarm.
‘Who are you talking to, Kat? I’ll come in there, you daft cow, it’s slashing down.’
‘No one, Paige, I’m just on the phone to my mam.’